Shard Knight (Echoes Across Time Book 1) (36 page)

He lost himself in the dancing light letting his conscious mind drift. The book. The damned book shook him to his core.

For years he’d tried to keep the past buried, but the book brought it rushing forward. Why had she done it? His mother took great risk in that journey. But, she’d slipped past the Meranthian border and convinced the guards to allow her safe passage. Vague memories of his time in the Heartwood felt more like a dream than real life experience. Nonetheless, he remembered flashes of his time spent there decades ago.

He never asked her why she’d made the journey, but looking back he could guess. He’d never fit in among the tree people. With his pale complexion and blond hair he didn’t belong, and his mother knew it. He’d long suspected his father’s Meranthian heritage, but he still didn’t know his identity.

The church had welcomed her. Welcomed them both. He remembered her hushed conversations with the priests always careful to keep her voice low.

He shuddered as he recalled the morning he woke to find her gone. He carried the agony contained in that singular moment every day, and he’d never forgiven her.

The church accepted him from the start, and he embraced Elan with a fervor that separated him from his peers. Even among the elder deacons, he worshiped with exceptional devotion. His classmates sought out his advice treating him more like a rector than a peer.

Pride had soared through the church ranks earning his shard at seventeen. Most disciples of Elan chose the healing path, but he had different plans. He vowed never to allow another control over his life. When a protection shard became available, he’d leaped at the chance. He’d discovered properties of spirit magic that surprised even the most advanced shield knights inside the Order’s ranks. But, he kept his most treasured discoveries hidden. When Archbishop Ewers died, Pride’s appointment surprised no one.

He could’ve left his past alone. He would’ve obliged if not for Ayralen intrusion. Ambassador James Finn’s arrival changed everything. Pride didn’t know how the man knew his birth mother, but he did. The ambassador’s naivety of using that knowledge as a conversational icebreaker galled him. The man had earned his fate through his own stupidity.

A sharp chill ran along Pride’s spine as he recalled the conversation with Finn. Had his enemies discovered the truth, the church and its parishioners would’ve shunned him. His life’s work ruined by an unwanted Ayralen visitor. How many Ayralens knew his secret? He’d long since dealt with the priest that spoke with his mother, and he thought he’d closed every loop.

A loud banging on the iron door broke his trance.

“Enter,” Pride said.

Lord Randal peered through the door’s crack before pushing it wide. “Your Majesty, I’ve brought the prisoner.”

“Very good Niles. Send him in.”

A tall lanky Ayralen man entered wearing a fresh tunic, trousers, and shoes. The outfit stood in stark contrast to the filth covering his face and hands. His thin disheveled hair lay twisted in a tangled mass, and dark stubbles covered his face and neck. He kept his eyes lowered staring at his shackled wrists and ankles as he shuffled across the room not daring a peek at the king. He came on Lord Randal’s heels and those of a shield knight escorting him.

The hum of a thin detention shield surrounded the greasy man. Its near invisibility marked the man’s threat level.

“Prisoner, what’s your name?” Pride said.

“My name is Brendyn Hartel of Lora’s Guard. Protector of the Heartwood and loyal ambassador of the prime guardian.”

Pride snorted with contempt. “Ambassador is it? Is that what you call yourself?” He crossed the room and stood before the dirty Ayralen. “You’ll address me as Your Majesty while in my presence. Do you understand me?”

Brendyn nodded. “I understand Your Majesty.”

“That’s better. Have you forgotten how a visiting ambassador should address a king?” He shook his head. “You Ayralens have a great deal to learn about manners.”

“I apologize Your Majesty.” Brendyn said speaking into the floor with his down turned face blank of expression.

Pride extended his hand, and the shield surrounding Brendyn disappeared.

The shield knight’s eyes widened with panic. He raised his hand, and blue light flickered in his fingertips.

“Be at ease Derick. I intend to use my magic to interrogate this prisoner.” Pride flicked his wrist, and a shield thick enough to stop a stampeding bull flickered to life around Brendyn.

“I apologize for the ineptitude of the shield Your Majesty. Collapsing it shouldn’t have been possible.”

“Knight Derick, you’ll have to forgive an old man who’s still got a few tricks up his sleeve. You’ve committed no wrong,” Pride said.

Tension drained from the knight’s shoulders. “Yes Your Majesty. If you wouldn’t mind my asking, how did you do it?”

“I’ll leave you to figure that out Derick. Now, if you’ll excuse us, you may take your leave.”

Derick bowed. “Thank you Your Majesty.” He spun on his heel and strode from the room.

Brendyn’s gaze never left the floor throughout the exchange.

“Mister Hartel, my patience today has been exhausted so I’m going to come straight to the point. I need information about your mission to my country.”

“The avalanche on Salem’s Peak exposed an opening that raised the curiosity of an Ayralen guardian,” Brendyn said. “He sent word to the prime guardian, and he sent us to investigate.”

Pride extended his hand and gave his wrist a slight twist.

The shield surrounding Brendyn shrunk until spirit energy hovered above his skin like a second layer of skin.

Pride flicked his index finger, and the shield descended by a hair’s width.

A high-pitched scream resonated from Brendyn’s throat. “I’ve told you what I know.”

Pride’s pulse pitched higher as the joy of the hunt poured through his body like warthogs running wild through a thicket. As he twisted his wrist, a tight smile tugged at the corners of his paper-thin lips.

Brendyn’s body lurched as saliva ran unfettered from his slackened jaw. His eyes bulged, and his legs wobbled like a tub of raspberry jam as his self-control slipped away.

Pride released the shield’s hold lifting it from the surface of Brendyn’s skin. “Please Mister Hartel, continue with the same tired story you told a month ago. I’m rather enjoying this process. When you’re ready to speak the truth, can you give some sort of signal to my minister of internal affairs?”

Brendyn sagged, and his trembling legs bordered on collapse as sweat formed beneath the armpits of his tunic. He pulled in large rasping gasps struggling to speak the faintest whisper.

This Ayralen scum would conform. Pride saw weakness in his eyes. He merely needed another tweak. “We’ve built a private cell for you at the colony Mister Hartel. I think you’ll enjoy your personal accommodations. No more troublesome visits from your friends. I wonder if you’ll have as much success staying alive? Or, perhaps you’d enjoy your own quarters here in the palace? All your meals prepared by my personal chef, and you’d enjoy the comfort of your own soft bed.”

Brendyn struggled to preserve consciousness as his head lolled like a rag doll. He temporarily won the battle for self-control as his neck followed the sound of Pride’s voice. “What…is it…you want?” His words came broken and slurred.

“Let’s start with the truth,” Pride said.

“The truth?” A broken smile crossed his sunken face. “The truth is I never wanted to come on this Godforsaken mission.”

“Oh? Why’s that?”

“Danielle Deveaux lacks the experience and wisdom necessary to lead an expedition of this importance.”

Pride resisted the urge to unleash another jolt of spirit energy. “Keep talking.”

“If you’re serious about your offer, I’ll tell you…Your Majesty.”

“Be careful Mister Hartel. You don’t control the flow of information in this conversation. I do. You’ll tell me because I want to know. If I’m feeling generous, I’ll reward you. Ask yourself if your life is worth it? I’ll not negotiate this point further. You can simply tell the truth or die.”

Brendyn sagged and dropped his head nodding. “We never meant to enter the mountain cave. A snowstorm forced us to take cover.”

“I see. Why did you leave the book?”

“I’ll tell you the truth, but, honestly, I find this part unbelievably myself. The book had a magical trap embedded inside. When Danielle opened the book, piles of human bones littering the room came alive and unleashed strange black magic.” He shivered as he recounted the details. “We lost two team members. I wish we’d never seen that cave.”

“And you left the book fearing further disaster?”

“Yes. We planned on returning with a larger team once we contacted the prime guardian.”

“Honestly Mister Hartel. I find the skeleton story a bit over the top, but I’m going to let it slide. Please continue.”

“Our primary mission was to find Ronan Latimer and place him on the Meranthian throne.”

Pride chuckled and shook his head. “What a foolish notion. Elan’s on my side Mister Hartel. Your prime guardian should know better. How did you know Ronan was alive?”

“The prime guardian received a message. I wasn’t privy to the details. As far as I know, the only Meranthians Connal Deveaux knew came from Princess Arianne’s trip to Ayralen twenty years ago,” Brendyn said.

Pride’s eyebrows raised as a realization struck him. “Ah, Patron Tyrell was no doubt involved. Elan saw to it that he met his final reward. He’s no longer among the living. It seems your mission has taken a decidedly bad turn.”

“As I said earlier Your Majesty, Danielle’s decision to enter that cave proved disastrous. Patron Tyrell’s death makes little difference to me. I met the man once many years ago. I barely knew him.”

“When did you meet Patron Tyrell?”

“Princess Arianne came to Ayralen to establish a relationship with our country. Tyrell came as part of her team, and I served as ambassador during her time in the Heartwood.”

“Tell me about Princess Arianne’s time in the Heartwood. I know she traveled to Ayralen against King Torr’s wishes.”

Brendyn’s eyes shifted, and he licked his lips. “What do you want to know Your Majesty? That happened a long time ago.”

This man tried to deceive him, and he wouldn’t tolerate insubordination. He shook his head and extended his palm. “Mister Hartel, you trifle with your life. So be it.” Energy gathered like a storm at the tips of his outstretched fingers.

Desperation oozed from Brendyn’s face as he lifted his shackled hands as if to fend off the blow. “No wait! Please Your Majesty!”

Pride contained the gathering ball of blue spirit energy and stared with contempt at the worm hunkered before him. “You’ll not lie to the king! Do you understand me Mister Hartel? Your life is forfeit. Tell me what you know without further prompting.”

Brendyn’s head jerked “Yes! I’ll tell you everything. Just don’t kill me please.”

Pride let the energy recede and lowered his hand. He wanted to decimate this pagan where he stood, but he needed the information first. “Talk, and talk willingly. That was your final warning.”

Words flew from Brendyn’s mouth. “As I said, I was an emissary of sorts to the Queen during her visit to the Heartwood. I took care of her communications, set up her meetings, and attended her general needs. I came to know her rather well during that time.” Brendyn licked his lips and ran a trembling hand through the mess of hair atop his head. “She began a relationship with the prime guardian. An intimate relationship.”

Pride raised an eyebrow. “That doesn’t surprise me. The woman made many poor choices. Go on.”

“She became pregnant during her long stay in the Heartwood, and I can’t imagine any other father but the prime guardian,” Brendyn said.

Goose bumps raised on his flesh, and he shivered. How close they’d all come to an Ayralen king sitting atop the Meranthian throne. Disaster couldn’t begin to describe that scenario. “That confirms what I’ve long suspected. Her son is Ayralen, and her story a lie. If the country had known the truth, she would’ve hung and saved us many years of grief,” Pride said.

“There’s more to the story,” Brendyn said. “The queen gave birth to twins Your Majesty. A boy and a girl.”

“Miss Deveaux,” Pride said.

“That’s correct Your Majesty.”

“Miss Deveaux carried a ring with her. It’s an important Meranthian artifact. I need information about her ring,” Pride said.

Brendyn scratched his head and stared toward the ceiling as if searching long forgotten memories. “I do recall overhearing a conversation between the queen and the prime guardian the day before she left. Connal Deveaux gave her a gift, but I didn’t see what. He asked Arianne to give it to Ronan on his eighth birthday. She was distraught, and I had a hard time understanding the entire conversation. He mentioned the phrase ‘each having one’. After that, she broke down, and I retreated.”

He stood frozen in stunned disbelief as the news sent his pulse soaring. Had he understood the man correctly? Ronan held his ring. He’d had it his whole life.

“The prince has the second ring Your Majesty,” Lord Randal said.

“Yes Niles. I formed the same conclusion.”